


Day of Rest

by FreyaOdin



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, M/M, Not-So-Sleepy Sex, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 02:59:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8693782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyaOdin/pseuds/FreyaOdin
Summary: For anyone feeling deprived of Scomiche content the last few days, have some fluffy morning smut.





	

Mitch slowly wakes to the feeling of gentle hands smoothing over his skin, one large palm sliding down the entire length of his side, just on the right side of ticklish, the other wrapped loosely around the hand he has stretched in front of him, caressing the soft flesh at the base of his thumb.

He hums sleepily, appreciating the warmth and intimacy of the moment. They don’t get many of these moments these days, as busy as they are, and this is _nice_ with the sun streaming in through the sheer curtains and no alarm blaring to force them up and out of bed. Which of course is when Mitch stiffens in panic, wondering what he’s forgotten and where they’re supposed to be right now.

“Shhh, s’okay,” mumbles a gravelly, sleep-deep voice near his ear. The hand on his side smooths back up his torso, this time crossing over it and pulling him back against the large warm body behind him. “It’s Saturday. There’s nowhere we need to be ‘til tonight.”

Oh thank God. Mitch lets himself be cuddled close, nestling into the bicep under his neck and the broad chest behind him. His hands find Scott’s, the bottom one turning to interweave their fingers together in front of them while the other slides along the forearm across his chest, enjoying the rasp of fine blond hairs he finds there. He turns his head slightly to place a soft kiss on a flowered shoulder and gets one in return on the base of his neck.

They cuddle together for a while; it doesn’t take long for Scott to fall back asleep. Mitch intentionally matches his breathing to the pace of the soft snores behind him until he also dozes off.

When he wakes again, the sun is even higher in the sky, casting a warm ray across their big white bed. His hands have moved, now clasped loosely together in front of him, but there’s still a big palm on his sternum pressing him back into a warm wall of skin. Scott’s other arm is bent up and crossed in front of him now, resting on his opposite shoulder. The embrace is loose, comforting rather than confining, and Mitch feels so good and safe and warm.

The peace can’t last forever though. A moment later, Wyatt hops up on the bed, stalking around until he locates Mitch’s face. Then he sits on his haunches and stares at him with the haughtiest expression ever.

“Are you pissed I stole your snuggle buddy?” Mitch asks quietly.

Wyatt ignores the question and keeps staring.

“Mmmwah?” is Scott’s response.

“Our child is annoyed that I’m hogging your attention.”

“Sorry Wy Wy,” Scott says, snuffling into the space between Mitch’s shoulder and neck. He straightens the arm under Mitch’s head and reaches over to pet Wyatt, his hand tilting to scratch behind his ear. It makes his bicep bulge slightly under Mitch’s neck.

“Hey,” Mitch complains. “You’re ruining my pillow.”

“Sorry Mitchy.” He smooths his other hand up Mitch’s chest and scratches behind _Mitch’s_ ear.

Mitch rolls his eyes and takes the opportunity to roll over. He’s confronted by one of his favorite looks: sleepy, half-closed blue eyes, a disordered mop of blond hair, warmth-flushed cheeks marred only by a pillow-induced crease line, soft scruff just starting to exceed its normal length, and a tired but slightly mischievous curve to the bow of those pink lips. Mitch can’t help but lean in and try to kiss it away.

He plans for it to be brief, just a light press before he tries to fall back to sleep, but Scott opens beautifully to him, moaning deep in his chest. His arms surround Mitch again, palms against his shoulder blades and as he rolls onto his back, Mitch is pulled with him until he’s sprawled half on top, their lips still connected.

Yeah. Okay then.

It’s lazy and sweet and comfortable and it continues in the same vein until a disgruntled Wyatt hops onto Mitch’s shoulder, pads down his back, and promptly leaps to the floor using Scott’s stomach as a springboard. The whole thing is ridiculous, but it’s the startled “oof!” Scott makes that really sets Mitch giggling.

Once he gets over his surprise, Scott grins up at him, eyes twinkling. “I think we’ve been told off.”

“Told to fuck off, you mean?” Mitch is still laughing, smile wide and uncontrolled. He watches Wyatt stride out of the room, tail held high as he retreats with overplayed feline dignity.

“That, yes.” Mitch turns back to Scott to find him staring up at him, twinkling eyes subtly darkening. His grin slowly transitions to a lip bite and one of his hands slides from Mitch’s shoulder blade, down over his back and ass to his thigh. A slight tug has Mitch’s leg pulled across Scott’s hips and then there’s something else pressing into his thigh.

Mitch cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Want you, Mitchy.”

What a surprise. Mitch thinks about teasing him, making him work for it, but another look at those eyes and the tilt of that jaw and the miles and miles of smooth skin spread out underneath him have his own cock hardening.

Yeah. Okay then.

Prep doesn’t take long. The lube is in the nightstand and Mitch is still loose from the quick fuck they had in the shower before they collapsed into bed the night before. Scott soon has two thick fingers inside him and Mitch is leaning over him, muffling his needy whimpers by sucking on Scott’s tongue and occupying the hand not holding him up by lubing Scott’s cock.

A twist of Scott’s hand and Mitch breaks the kiss on a moan. He tugs at Scott’s forearm, pulling his fingers out and away. Then he shuffles up on his knees until he’s well positioned and slowly lowers himself onto Scott’s cock, hissing and arching his back as he takes him in.

Fuck. So good.

Scott clearly thinks so too, if his own back arch and his hands clenching on Mitch’s thighs are anything to go by. His mouth has dropped open and Mitch can feel a slight tremor in his hips that he’s trying to suppress. A big hand slides up over Mitch’s hip, up his torso, over his nipple and collarbone, and up to cup his jaw. Mitch tries a tentative hip roll and Scott groans, thumb smoothing across Mitch’s bottom lip.

Mitch readjusts himself to a slightly more comfortable knee position, places his hands on Scott’s belly, nips at the thumb on his mouth, and then starts to ride. He goes slowly at first; he’s used to Scott’s size, but a little warmup never hurt anyone. But before long he’s found a steady rhythm and just the right angle and he’s moaning at each press of Scott’s hips. His eyes have drifted shut and he can’t concentrate on anything except the slide of Scott’s thick cock across his prostate.

He feels powerful like this. He loves Scott’s tendency to take charge, loves to be under him or held in place by him or surrounded by his big frame. But sometimes it just feels right to be the one in control. To have Scott writhing underneath him, all that power sublimated, suppressed, and relinquished.

Soon enough, Scott’s pulling him down for a kiss. He goes willingly, even if it ruins the perfect angle he’s got going on. Scott wraps him in his arms, holds him as close as their general lack of flexibility allows, and kisses him with everything he has.

It’s sloppy and wet and hot and everything Mitch wants right now.

The kiss continues until Mitch’s knees and thighs and back start to protest and he has to sit back up. Scott lets him go, sliding one hand down to hold Mitch’s hip as he rides him, and bringing the other to Mitch’s cock. He tugs a couple of times, takes a quick break to awkwardly grab a handful of lube, and then he’s back at it, making Mitch hiss as the cold liquid hits his overheated skin.

It warms up soon enough though, and then Mitch is really whimpering, almost overstimulated by the once again perfect pressure on his prostate and the glorious slide of Scott’s hand on his dick. Christ, he knows just how to do him and Mitch is suddenly having a hard time maintaining his rhythm.

“Yeesss, Mitch,” Scott groans. “Gonna come for me? Come all over me?”

Yeah. Okay then.

Mitch readjusts his stance, bringing his knees more directly under his hips, turning his graceful circles into a faster, more vertical grind. His breathing is harsher and he can feel the sweat beading at his brow line as his effort increases. Scott’s stripping his cock in time, tugging faster as Mitch’s tempo increases. He’s starting to sweat too, his broad chest taking on a slight glisten. Mitch wants to lick him but he can’t spare the focus from the building tension low in his gut.

Scott’s free hand makes it back up to Mitch’s jaw, and it’s that big thumb pressing at the seam of his mouth, demanding and earning entrance that pushes Mitch over the edge. His last grunt turns into a high pitched whine and he shudders and spills, splashing all over Scott’s belly and chest.

Scott moans as he feels it, pulling Mitch through with his hand and the unfaltering rhythm he keeps with his hips even as Mitch’s falls apart. He waits for the aftershocks of Mitch’s orgasm to settle and then they’re rolling, Mitch winding up on his back with Scott cradled between his thighs, still inside him. Scott stares hungrily down at him for a moment before retaking his mouth in a harsh, demanding kiss and pounding into him in an unapologetic strive for his own orgasm.

Hell, yes. Mitch clutches uselessly at Scott’s bicep and ass, simply along for the ride at this point and not upset about it in the slightest. Scott’s breathing is harsh, much-needed air desperately sucked in through his nose because his mouth is busy devouring Mitch’s. There’s nothing sweet about this kiss and Mitch is revelling in it. He can feel his come smearing between their chests and feel Scott’s abs sliding along his oversensitive, spent cock.

It doesn’t last long, ten maybe fifteen strokes at most, before Scott’s muscles are tensing and he’s grinding down into Mitch and almost screaming into his mouth as he shudders through his orgasm.

Mitch loves this feeling, the slight aftershock he always gets when Scott comes soon after him, filling him up. So good.

Scott’s hips twitch a few more times as he finishes and his kiss gentles once more, becoming sweeter and more relaxed. Mitch smiles into it and Scott soon follows suit until they’re both grinning like idiots into a kiss that’s only now getting back under control.

Scott’s the first to break it, although he does it in stages, dipping back in a few times before taking a real break. He grins down at Mitch, blue eyes light and twinkling again. “So. Good morning!”

Dork. It’s a good thing Mitch loves him. “Morning. What do you want to do on our day off?”

Scott’s grin turns into a smirk. “Already did it.”

Mitch rolls his eyes, swats his shoulder, and ignores the “What? I meant sleeping in!” He does happily submit to another kiss, but then shoves Scott’s shoulder harder to push him off, mourning only slightly when the movement also disconnects them.

Scott settles onto his side, smoothing a hand back up Mitch’s chest—completely ignoring the mess—and leaving a long leg nestled in between Mitch’s. He nuzzles into the side of Mitch’s neck, smug smile already turning sleepy again, even as he presses more kisses to Mitch’s collarbone. He’d clearly be happy to nap some more. Mitch glances at the clock and notes that they still have hours left to rest.

Yeah. Okay then.

 

**Thoughts?**


End file.
